<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Selene's by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478258">Selene's</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte'>Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cabaret, Asexual Stiles Stilinski, Bartender Derek Hale, F/M, Genderfluid Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore is a Hale, M/M, Pole Dancer Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:49:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After five years in Tibet, Derek returns home to find his family's restaurant is now a cabaret.  His uncle Peter has managed to make it one of the city's most popular nighttime hot spots, and Derek is surprised by how easy it is to slip back into his old role as a bartender.  What isn't so easy is keeping himself from falling in love with Stiles, a pole dancer that has captivated Derek from the first moment he laid eyes on them.</p>
<p>Part of the Sterek Reverse Quickie 2020.</p>
<p>Art by the lovely clotpolesonly</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Selene's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Derek looks up from his phone when the car slows.  “Why are you--?”</p>
<p>The driver makes eye contact with him through the reflection in the rearview mirror as he puts the vehicle in park. “We’re here, Sir.”</p>
<p>Derek leans across the backseat to look out the window at the building they’re parked in front of.  He shakes his head at the driver, and gestures with a hand, “This isn’t the right place.”</p>
<p>The driver’s lips press together as if fighting a smile, before exiting the car and opening Derek’s door for him.  “This is the correct address, Sir.”</p>
<p>Derek squints at him as he exits the car, “You’re sure?”</p>
<p>“Yessir.” </p>
<p>Derek watches the driver, Marcus, as he unloads his suitcase from the trunk.  Derek turns to stare at the building’s façade with its garish amount of neon above the entrance.  Parts of it look remotely familiar, namely the large arched windows high above the marquee.</p>
<p>“Selene’s has been here for at least two years, if not more.  I don’t remember what it was before that.”  Marcus shuts the trunk and gestures for Derek to precede him, “I believe the Hales remodeled it when they purchased it from the previous owners.”</p>
<p>Derek calls over his shoulder as he makes his way to Selene’s front door, “Seeing as <em>I’m</em> one of the owners, <em>and</em> a Hale, I can assure you this building has been in the family for nearly a hundred years, but it didn't look like this.”  He waves a hand to the whole of the building as they make their way inside, “I’m just wondering just how much it all cost.”</p>
<p>Marcus’ eyebrows lift in surprise, but he recovers quickly.  “I…didn’t realize you were a Hale, Sir.  Mr. Hale simply told me which gate you’d be arriving at, not who you were.”</p>
<p>Derek snorts a laugh, “I can’t say I’m surprised.  Peter’s always been one for dramatics.”  Derek gazes pointedly at the security camera above the door, “He’s probably watching us right now, waiting for the perfect time to make an entrance.”</p>
<p>Marcus clears his throat, only barely covering up a laugh.</p>
<p>As if summoned by the mere mention of his name, Peter approaches them with his arms spread wide, “The Prodigal Son returns!”</p>
<p>Derek flicks his gaze to Marcus and mouths <em>“What did I tell you?”</em> as Peter drags him into a hug.  He allows himself to be hugged, then scented, within an inch of his life before taking a step back.</p>
<p>“Look at you, your hair’s gotten so long,” Peter cups both hands on Derek’s face, “and this beard, very rugged.  I suppose shaving isn’t a big priority while trekking through Tibet.”</p>
<p>Derek pulls out of Peter’s grip with a laugh.</p>
<p>“If that will be all, Mr. Hale, I think I’ll head out and let you two get reacquainted.”</p>
<p>“Yes, thank you,” Peter nods, “feel free to take the rest of the day off, Marcus.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Sir.”  Marcus nods to Derek, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hale.”</p>
<p>“Please, call me Derek.”</p>
<p>Marcus repeats the nod, “Derek.”  He looks around the entryway with a smile, “Welcome home, Sir.”  With that parting shot, Marcus takes his leave.</p>
<p>Derek’s attention returns to scrutinizing the interior of the building as he makes his way past the entryway.  His eyes take in the assortment of tables positioned around a large stage and two smaller ones.  Derek purses his lips and scolds gently, “you turned our family restaurant into a strip club?”</p>
<p>Peter scoffs, “It is not a strip club.”  He sniffs haughtily, “I’ll have you know it’s a cabaret.  There is a difference.”</p>
<p>“Seriously?”  Derek points to one of the smaller stages, “Those look like stripper poles to me, Peter.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be so narrow-minded, Derek.”  Peter waves a dismissive hand, “Selene’s offers a wide range of entertainment options that do not include stripping.  Our profit margin has increased substantially since the revamp.  Now that you’re back, you can see for yourself how well it’s doing compared to, say, five years ago.”</p>
<p>Derek traces his fingertips along the carved bar edge, “We’ll see, I guess.”</p>
<p>“But not until tomorrow night.”  Peter clarifies when Derek gives him a tired look, “Selene’s is closed on Mondays and you must be exhausted after your flight.”  He holds up a set of keys, “How about I show you the loft upstairs?  I had it cleaned and furnished when you told me you were thinking of heading home.”</p>
<p>Derek groans dramatically, “gods, yes.  You know I can’t sleep on airplanes, and the trip was awful.  So. Many. Layovers.”</p>
<p>“Poor baby, let me take you upstairs.”  Peter leads the way to an ornate elevator behind the largest stage.  He enters a code on the keypad and motions for Derek to enter ahead of him.  Once inside, Peter hands Derek the keys, “I had three of the five units combined to make a rather spectacular apartment for you.  We have tenants in one of the other two, and the last one is currently still set up as a model unit.”  Peter shrugs a shoulder, and muses, “although, we don’t need one now, I suppose.”</p>
<p>Derek makes a soft noise of acknowledgment.</p>
<p>When the elevator doors open once more, Peter gently guides Derek down the hall to his front door.  “This is yours.  Now go, take a shower, sleep the day away, and call me when you’re feeling more like yourself.”</p>
<p>“Will do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Over the next few weeks, Derek learns that loathe as he is to admit it, his uncle was right.  Selene’s is decidedly <em>not</em> a strip club, but rather, a night club of sorts, with an eclectic range of entertainment acts.</p>
<p>The jazz band that plays on Sundays and Thursdays is amazing.  They engage their audience in a way that Derek finds endearing, and if the size of the crowd on those nights is anything to go by, the patrons appreciate it as well.  His neighbor, Erica, who started out as a waitress in Selene’s, has an incredible voice that earned her a slot on Wednesday and Friday nights.  Her fiancé, Boyd, is one of the club’s bouncers and is working his way through culinary school.  Derek, more often than not, will find him in Chef Deucalion’s kitchen on his days off.  Lydia and Jordan’s Tuesday night aerial silks act is exceedingly popular, so much so that they were recently granted a second slot on Friday nights.  But the one person that has Derek intrigued is Stiles, and irony of ironies, wouldn’t you know it, Stiles is the person that performs on the poles Derek judged so harshly on his return.</p>
<p>Stiles is…</p>
<p>They are nothing like Derek expected.</p>
<p>Stiles is loud, boisterous, and just shy of being too sarcastic.  They are fiercely protective of those they consider family and will not hesitate to let patrons know when they’ve crossed a line.  Many a night Derek has watched from his place behind the bar, fully expecting to be called to intervene when a customer gets too rowdy, only to have Stiles beat him to it.  Seeing Stiles deal with the situation is both impressive, and entertaining.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dammit!”</em>
</p>
<p>Derek looks over to where Stiles is practicing their routine on the larger stage.  He tilts his head as he listens to Stiles’ heartbeat, trying to ascertain if they’re hurt, “You okay?”</p>
<p>Stiles does a fair approximation of a growl and mutters sullenly, “Yeah, I’m fine.”</p>
<p>Derek squints at where Stiles is bent over, rubbing at their right ankle, “You sure?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Stiles takes a series of deep breaths.  “I’m just a dumbass that knocked an ankle on the pole coming out of the Marion Amber.”</p>
<p> “I…have no idea what that is.”</p>
<p>Stiles laughs.  They stand up and grip the pole with both hands.  After a small climb of the pole, they’re inverting their body and transitioning effortlessly into an upside-down split.  “This is a <a href="http://poledancedictionary.com/moves/350/marion-amber/">Marion Amber</a>.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Derek clears his throat, “the upside-down split thing, got it.”</p>
<p>Stiles seamlessly eases back down to standing and teases with a grin, “Way to simplify it there, dude.”</p>
<p>Derek shrugs, “I don’t know what the moves are called, I just simply—”</p>
<p>“Enjoy watching me do them?”</p>
<p>Derek gapes at Stiles, “What?  No, I mean—”</p>
<p>Stiles makes their way off stage and over to where Derek is sitting in the VIP section.  “Relax, I’m just teasing you.”  They tilt their head, one side of their lips quirking in a smile, “Mind if I join you?”</p>
<p>“Not at all,” Derek motions to the armchair across from his own, “please, have a seat.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, boss.”  Stiles chuckles when the honorific makes Derek grimace.  “You really hate it when people call you that, huh?”</p>
<p>“I just,” Derek shakes his head, “it feels strange being referred to that way; like it’s wrong somehow.  Growing up, my grandfather was ‘boss’ and later, when he died, the title fell to my parents.  Now that they’re gone, I guess I always assumed that particular mantle would fall on my uncle’s shoulders, not mine.  Especially considering I haven’t been around for years.”  Derek opens his mouth to say something, only to stop because of the look on Stiles’ face.  “What?”</p>
<p>“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time.”  Stiles backpedals, “I mean, I know you <em>talk</em>.”  They motion with their hands, “I’ve seen you speaking to other staff members, but I don’t think you’ve ever said more than a few words to me.  I um,” Stiles clears his throat, “I just took it to mean that you didn’t like me, or at least that you were avoiding me because of the whole—”</p>
<p>“The whole…what?”</p>
<p>Stiles lifts their left hand and spins the black ring around their finger.  “People usually assume it means I’m married, even if it’s on the ‘wrong’ finger.”</p>
<p>“Are you?”</p>
<p>“What, married?”  At Derek’s nod, Stiles shakes their head.  “Nope.”  They sit forward to reach for Derek’s glass, “Whatcha drinking?”</p>
<p>Derek arches a brow, answering as Stiles takes a drink, “Water.”</p>
<p>Stiles makes a face and sets the glass down.  “That,” they point at the highball glass, “is a glass of lies.”</p>
<p>The statement startles a laugh out of Derek.  “A glass of lies?”</p>
<p>“Yes!”  Stiles gestures wildly, “it’s in a nice glass and you used the fancy ice.  You even have a garnish for crying out loud!</p>
<p>“So?”  Derek stirs the garnish in the glass of water, “I like pineapple.”</p>
<p>“And starfruit apparently.”</p>
<p>Derek nods as he eases the cocktail pick out of his water glass.  “I’m assuming you’re not a fan?”  He slides a section of pineapple off and into his mouth.  Derek meets Stiles’ gaze as he chews, unsure of the expression on their face.</p>
<p>“I-“ Stiles makes a motion akin to a bird settling its feathers and shrugs, “I love pineapple, but I don’t even know what starfruit tastes like.”</p>
<p>“Really?”  Derek <em>hmms</em> softly at Stiles’ nod and extends the cocktail pick towards them.  He lifts his brows expectantly, fingers rolling the pick first one way, then the other as he waits for Stiles to take the slice of fruit.  “So,” Derek waves the garnish at Stiles in what he hopes is an enticing manner, “try it.”</p>
<p>Stiles narrows their gaze.  A tentative hand reaches out to take not only the sliver of starfruit but the section of pineapple behind it.  They lift the former up to their nose to sniff before taking the tiniest bite Derek has ever seen.  The first bite is followed by a slightly larger one and then an adventurous third and final bite.</p>
<p>Derek watches Stiles’ face as they attempt to parse the flavor.  He uses the time to ease the next slice of starfruit off the pick and into his mouth.  Derek is about to eat the last section of pineapple, along with the starfruit piece behind it when Stiles reaches across the table to take the entire cocktail pick from Derek’s hand.  He smirks, “I take it you liked it?”</p>
<p>Stiles makes a non-committal noise as they chew, “It was fine.”  They take a deep breath and blow it out, “Welp, that’s enough down-time for me.  I should get back to practice.”  Stiles gestures to the laptop on the table, “and you should get back to whatever it was you were doing.”</p>
<p>Derek makes a face at the stack of invoices, “Paying bills.”</p>
<p>“Ooo, exciting.”  Stiles waves on their way back to the stage, “Have fun, boss.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Careful, you’d better make sure no one sees you staring at Stiles like that.”</p>
<p>Derek looks over at Jackson, his brows lifting in silent query.</p>
<p>Jackson goes back to restocking the liquor bottles without another word.  He’s in the middle of flattening the now-empty boxes when Derek hears him laugh under his breath.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Nothing,” Jackson carefully picks up the stack of flattened boxes and makes his way past Derek before speaking up once more, “it’s just that you’re not the first person to look at Stiles that way, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be the last, but I don’t want you getting it into your head that for whatever reason, you’ll be different.  Or worse yet, that you’ll assume being the boss should somehow influence the outcome.”</p>
<p>The insinuation rankles Derek.  “What is <em>that</em> supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>Jackson simply says, “Stiles is asexual,” and then makes his way towards the loading dock area without another word.  He’s gone a couple of minutes but, on his return, continues speaking as if no time has elapsed.  “They’re not interested in sex, so whatever you’ve got rattling around in your brain?  It’s not gonna happen, and well, I don’t want you making this awkward.”</p>
<p>“Jackson, I’m not expecting anything from Stiles, and I’m most definitely not going to wrongly assume that being the boss gets me special treatment.  I’m simply fascinated by the fact that someone can do <em>that</em>,” Derek gestures to where Stiles is finishing up a run-through of their <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EafhEQDQ9oY&amp;list=RDfaij1_3HSig&amp;index=3">routine</a> for the night, “especially in heels.”</p>
<p>“I see.”  Jackson nods, “Just…keep in mind what I said, okay?  Stiles is a friend, and I don’t want them hurt.”</p>
<p>Derek nods, “of course.”  He is so focused on Jackson’s warning that he doesn’t notice the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat getting closer.</p>
<p>“Well, that conversation seemed ultra-serious.”  Stiles watches Jackson’s retreating back for a few seconds before setting their water bottle down directly in front of Derek.  “Everything okay between you two?”</p>
<p>“Fine.”  Derek takes the empty water bottle and unscrews the cap to refill it.  “Jackson was just telling me just how much he missed me while I was gone.”</p>
<p>Stiles laughs, “I call bullshit!”  They grin mischievously, “and I don’t even have a werewolf lie detector.”</p>
<p>Derek’s eyes widen.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know your little secret.”  Stiles accepts the newly refilled water bottle from Derek and takes a sip.  “I’m human, not oblivious.”</p>
<p>Derek doesn’t say a word, simply busies himself cutting a handful of strawberries.  He transfers the slices into a bowl and turns to pull a container of plain yogurt out of the refrigerator behind him.  Once he’s spooned a serving of yogurt on top of the strawberries, Derek drizzles a generous helping of honey over the bowl. </p>
<p>“You want to talk about it?”</p>
<p>“Not really, no.” </p>
<p>“Well, I’m here if you ever want to talk.”  Stiles eases up onto one of the barstools and makes excited hand motions as Derek slides the bowl of strawberries towards them.</p>
<p>Derek nods, busying himself with cleaning up his workstation to avoid staring at Stiles’ mouth while they happily lift spoonfuls of fruit and yogurt up to it.  Now that Jackson’s called attention to it, Derek’s realized just how much time he spends just watching Stiles.  It’s a rather embarrassing amount if he’s honest with himself.  Derek was sure he was being discrete, and maybe he was wrong to assume that no one had noticed.</p>
<p>“I’ve overstepped.”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Stiles sighs.  “Derek—" </p>
<p>Derek looks up when Stiles wiggles their fingertips in his line of sight.  Stiles has a small amount of yogurt at the corner of their mouth, and before he can stop himself, Derek has reached across the bar to wipe it clean.  In fact, Derek isn’t even aware he’s done it until he registers Stiles sucking in a surprised breath while going stock-still under his touch.  Derek backs away, muttering a heartfelt <em>“fuck”</em> under his breath.</p>
<p>“Hey.”  The sound of Stiles’ spoon clattering against the side of the bowl echoes in the empty club.  “Derek, look at me, please.”</p>
<p>Derek leans against the liquor cabinet and crosses his arms over his chest, "I shouldn’t have done that, and I apologize.”  His face flickers through a series of micro-expressions before he adds, “I didn’t mean to…make you uncomfortable and um—”</p>
<p>“You didn’t.”</p>
<p>Derek huffs in disbelief.</p>
<p>“Look, I know you can tell if I’m lying, so believe me when I say that you touching me?  It didn’t make me uncomfortable, like, at all.  In fact,” Stiles reaches toward Derek, “here, gimme.”</p>
<p>It’s nearly a minute before Derek steps closer to place his forearm in Stiles’ waiting palm.</p>
<p>Stiles traces fingertips over Derek’s palm.  They smile softly, “You have very nice hands.”</p>
<p>“Uh, thank you?”</p>
<p>Stiles smiles, “Yes, Derek, that was a compliment.”  They rub their thumb over the heel of Derek’s hand.  “I spend way too much time watching you when you’re doing bar prep on the afternoons I’m here.”  Stiles shakes their head, “It’s captivating to watch you while you're using a knife.  The ease with which you go through the motions is breathtaking.”  They turn Derek’s hand over to lightly graze fingertips over the hair dusting his knuckles.  “Such strong hands,” Stiles’ fingers splay over Derek’s own.  “I saw you and Boyd the other night when you had to escort the bachelor party out the door.  Anytime you go from bartender mode to bouncer mode, this change comes over your face.  If I'm completely honest, it’s a little frightening.”</p>
<p>Derek swallows hard.  His control is wavering, and it’s becoming more and more difficult to just stand there as Stiles runs their hand up to his forearm as they speak.</p>
<p>“Ennis told me you were gone for nearly five years.  He says you carry immense guilt for something that wasn’t your fault.”</p>
<p>“I used to.”</p>
<p>“Is that why you left?  Because of what happened?”</p>
<p>Derek gives Stiles a curt nod, “yes.”</p>
<p>Stiles lifts Derek’s hand up to their face, tilting it slightly as they rest their cheek against Derek’s palm.  “I’m sure Ennis is right; that whatever happened was beyond your control.  I can’t imagine you hurting anyone intentionally.  It’s not in your nature, no matter what anyone else says.”</p>
<p>“Stiles, you <em>just</em> said you were scared of me.”</p>
<p>“No, I said the change that comes over your face is frightening, not that <em>you</em> were.  If only because you are one of the gentlest people I’ve ever met.” </p>
<p>Derek rubs his thumb back forth over Stiles’ cheekbone.  “You must meet a lot of violent people in your line of work.”</p>
<p>Stiles chuckles and swats at Derek’s arm playfully, “Some of them <em>do</em> get violent, ass.” </p>
<p>“That is true.”</p>
<p>“And lately, you’re always there to rescue me when they do.”</p>
<p>“I try to be.”  Derek withdraws his hand, “I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”</p>
<p>“You <em>like</em> me.”  Stiles narrows their gaze on Derek, lips pursed in a smile.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Derek says quietly, “I do.”</p>
<p>Stiles turns towards the sound of Erica’s laugh, “First shift’s here.  Guess I should go get ready for tonight.”  They hop off the barstool, “See you later?”</p>
<p>Derek smiles, “I’ll be here.”</p>
<p>Stiles returns the smile, “Good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Derek isn’t sure how or when it happens, but even with Jackson’s warning rattling around in the back of his mind, he’s fallen for Stiles.  The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and Derek is still reeling from it.  Stiles has gotten under all of Derek’s defenses in record time, and he isn’t even upset.  Not in the slightest.  Derek looks forward to seeing Stiles, and on days they aren’t working, his shifts seem twice as long.</p>
<p>Derek glances to where Stiles is curled up, asleep on one of the plush sofas in the VIP section.</p>
<p>“You’re doing it again.”</p>
<p>“Seriously?”  Derek glares at his cousin, “I wish you’d stop doing that, you little shit.”</p>
<p>Jackson laughs, “Not on your life.”</p>
<p>Derek frowns, “Is there a reason you’re skulking in the shadows watching <em>me</em>?”</p>
<p>“I was not ‘skulking in the shadows.’  My arrival just happened to coincide with your latest session of pining.”  Jackson bumps his shoulder against Derek’s, “Sunday night’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlsHYr13yQs&amp;list=RDYaN5vo5HRaw&amp;index=4">routine</a> was beautiful, wasn’t it?”</p>
<p>“It was.”</p>
<p>“Stiles was a little worried about what you’d think of the wig.”  Jackson shrugs a shoulder, “I told them it didn’t matter what you thought, but apparently, it <em>does</em>.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“Mm, yeah.”</p>
<p>Derek isn’t sure how to respond to that particular piece of information, so he says nothing.  He simply stares at Jackson, hoping against hope that his cousin will elaborate.  When the silence stretches out too long, Derek takes a breath to ask, “How so?”</p>
<p>Jackson smiles, “It seems you’re not the only one that has a little crush.”</p>
<p>“I see.”</p>
<p>“Playing it cool is not the reaction I would have guessed.” Jackson teases gently, “After the weeks of hungry looks and not-so-subtle providing, I kind of expected you would vault the bar and run over there.”</p>
<p>“I haven’t been—”</p>
<p>Jackson snorts derisively.  “You probably don’t even realize you’re doing it, Derek, but you are.  We keep reordering that disgusting sparkling water Stiles loves, even though no one else ever drinks it.  There’s always a separate, smaller container of sliced fruit in that fridge over there,” he points at the refrigerator behind the bar, “and <em>everyone</em> knows not to touch it.”</p>
<p>Derek blinks in surprise. </p>
<p>“Deucalion also said you asked him to prepare skinless chicken breasts for <em>you</em>, but only on nights that Stiles works.”  Jackson purses his lips in thought, “Then there’s the fact that, normally, the main room is off-limits for anything other than practice.  That’s why my father had the day room installed during the reno.  He wanted a separate place for employees to relax between sets, and yet—” He shakes his head with a laugh, “Stiles gets to nap in here without so much as a peep from <em>management</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>You’re</em> management.”</p>
<p>Jackson smirks, “Yes, but I know better than to say anything to the owner’s favorite employee.”</p>
<p>Derek presses his lips together and ducks his head to hide the blush he knows is spreading across his cheeks.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, shit.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Hmm?”  Derek flicks his eyes up look at Jackson.</p>
<p>“You’re in love with Stiles.”</p>
<p>Derek opens his mouth to say something, but no words come.</p>
<p>“Oh my god, you <em>are</em>!”  Jackson takes a step closer, “You should tell them.”</p>
<p>“Aren’t you the one that warned me off all those weeks ago?”</p>
<p>Jackson dismisses Derek’s question with a wave, “That was back when I thought all you were looking for was a meaningless hookup.”</p>
<p>“I see.”</p>
<p>“Look, you’d just come back after being gone for years.  I didn’t know who you were anymore.  Tibet changed you, in a good way, mind you but you weren’t the same man that left.”  Jackson looks around in thought, “My cousin was <em>gone</em>, and I wasn’t sure if I’d like the person that came back.”</p>
<p>Derek almost doesn’t ask, but curiosity gets the better of him, “And do you?”</p>
<p>“Now that I’ve gotten to know you again,” Jackson nods, “yeah.”</p>
<p>“I’m still the same person, Jackson.”</p>
<p>“That’s just it, man, you’re not.  You’re calmer, not as quick to anger, and it’s almost as if nothing phases you.  Even when something happens in the club that calls for you to shift gears from bartender to back-up, you’re still in complete control.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, you never lost control, not once, even back then."  Jackson looks around briefly, his bottom lip quivers slightly before he speaks, "No matter what anyone says, it was justified.  What you did that night?”  Jackson blinks away tears, “What you did saved my father’s life, and I can never repay you.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to.”</p>
<p>“I know.”  Jackson wipes at his face, “I just wanted to tell you that.”  He sniffs quietly, “I’m just sorry you felt the need to leave for as long as you did.  We missed you.  <em>I</em> missed you, but if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.”</p>
<p>“Can’t deny it if there’s a witness.”  Derek gestures for Jackson to turn around.</p>
<p>Stiles lifts a hand to wave.  “Didn’t mean to interrupt.  I was just going to grab something to drink, then I’ll be out of you guys’ hair.”</p>
<p>Derek nods, stepping aside so that Stiles can pull the refrigerator door open.  “There’s a container of sliced—”</p>
<p>“Ooo!  Mango!”</p>
<p>Jackson rolls his eyes at Derek.</p>
<p>“Do you mind if I,” Stiles holds up the container, “can I maybe have some of this?”</p>
<p>Derek nods, “feel free.”</p>
<p>Stiles winks with a smile, “Thanks, boss.” </p>
<p>Jackson waits until Stiles is out of earshot before speaking again.  “You should go over there.”  He gestures to where Stiles is sitting, now enjoying his pre-shift snack.  “I’ll finish up here.”</p>
<p>Derek catches the furtive look Stiles flicks over towards them as they eat.  He scowls, “And say what, exactly?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, ‘may I join you’ works.”</p>
<p>“You,” Derek flicks the end of Jackson’s nose, “are such a smartass.”</p>
<p>Jackson swats at Derek as he walks away, “and you’re an asshole.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but you love me, and more importantly, you missed me.”  Derek sidesteps to avoid Jackson’s hands.  He makes his way over to Stiles’ table and smiles when the chair is pushed back in an obvious invitation for Derek to take the seat.  “Have a good nap?”</p>
<p>Stiles groans softly.  “Yeah, sorry about that.  I sat down to finish up the phone call to my dad and didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until I woke up a few minutes ago.  I know employees aren’t supposed to loiter in the main room during off-hours, but—”</p>
<p>“It’s okay.  You looked like you needed it.”</p>
<p>“I guess I did.”  Stiles takes a sip of their can of sparkling water, eyes watching Derek.  “Study group ran late last night, followed by an early class today.  I usually nap afterward, but Tuesdays are when I volunteer at the animal shelter.  It would have taken too long to go all the way home, and then come all the way back here for my shift, so I just took the subway here instead.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t have to pick up an extra shift tonight.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know, but it’s not Lydia’s fault she twisted her ankle, and Erica has night class so you would have had to cancel the second show.”</p>
<p>“I would have thought of something.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, smart guy?  What?”  Stiles looks Derek up and down, “Were you going to hop onstage?”</p>
<p>Derek makes a noncommittal noise.</p>
<p>Stiles laughs, “No way!  Doing what?  No wait, don’t tell me.”  They ponder for a few seconds, “Do you juggle?”</p>
<p>“No, nothing like that.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, magic show?”</p>
<p>Derek snorts, “Wrong again.”</p>
<p>Stiles taps their lips with a finger, “I’m having a hard time imagining what type of performance you’d do.”</p>
<p>“You give up?”</p>
<p>Stiles squints at him.  “I don’t want to, but the suspense is killing me.”  They clap excitedly, “Okay, yes, tell me.”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing exciting.  I just play the piano.”</p>
<p>A tiny gasp escapes Stiles, “You do?”</p>
<p>Derek nods, expression serious.</p>
<p>“Will you play something for me?”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>Stiles nods.  “Yes, please.”</p>
<p>Derek stares at Stiles in disbelief.  He stands when Stiles makes a shooing motion with their hands, and makes his way to the piano, turning back to ask, “What do you want me to play?  Anything in particular?  Uh, hmm…how about…”  Derek taps out the first few bars of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sZmPHJPvZE">Happy Birthday</a>, then segues into <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dizzqIkI9U">Chopsticks</a> before playing the opening notes of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4YB0-xji7k&amp;feature=emb_logo">Mozart’s Turkish March</a>.  He stops about fifteen seconds in, “Nah.  Let’s see.”  Derek tilts his head back to think.  “Okay, maybe you’ll know this one.”  He begins without revealing what he’s going to play, a smile spreading across his face as Stiles catches on to just <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aBtDz87UK0">what song</a> it is.  Derek finishes the song with a flourish and sits back.</p>
<p>“Dude, you’ve been holding out on me.”</p>
<p>Derek laughs, “It’s just something I do for fun.”</p>
<p>“You’re really good though.”  Stiles sits down on the piano bench next to Derek.  “You should play for us sometime.  Maybe take requests?  That would be fun.”</p>
<p>“You think so?”</p>
<p> “Yeah.”  Stiles leans in closer, “You have the most gorgeous eyes.”</p>
<p>Derek shuts his eyes, mortified when his face heats.</p>
<p>“No, don’t,” Stiles shifts on the bench.  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.  Hear me out okay?”</p>
<p>Derek only nods.</p>
<p>“Okay, here’s the thing.”  Stiles takes a centering breath, “I really like you, Derek.”</p>
<p>“I like you too.”</p>
<p>“No, I mean, like <em>really</em> like you.”  Stiles laughs, “I sound like a schoolgirl.”  They make an approximation of a child’s voice, and self-deprecatingly mutters under their breath, “'No, I mean I <em>like you</em>, like you.’”  Stiles takes a breath and in the next instance is speaking in their normal voice once more, “Tell me if I’m reading the signals wrong?  I don’t want to overstep, especially not with the boss, but—”</p>
<p>“Then pretend I’m not the boss and just say whatever it is you’re going to say.”</p>
<p>“I,” Stiles swallows hard, “enjoy spending time with you.  I like flirting with you, and most days I think you like flirting with me too, but then you’ll pull away and I worry that I’m being too pushy or over-the-top.  And there are so many times that I’ve thought you were going to kiss me, but then you’re moving away and I’m left wondering if I’m imagining it all.”</p>
<p>Derek leans in, “You’re not.  Imagining it, that is.  I didn’t want others to assume that I was abusing my position as the boss to get what I wanted.  Several people have pointedly told me, in no uncertain terms, that I wouldn’t be the first person to make a move on you.  You don’t do random hookups.  In fact, you're not interested in sex at all.  It’s not who you are, and that’s okay, I get that.  I’ve been warned you’re not interested in a relationship, and to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I am.”</p>
<p>“I’m asexual, Derek, but that doesn’t mean I don’t, or won’t, go out on dates.  I’d love to go out on a date with you.”</p>
<p>“You would?”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah.”  Stiles grins, “I’d date you so hard.”</p>
<p>Derek swallows down a shocked laugh.</p>
<p>Stiles laughs, “You’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”  They reach up to cup Derek’s cheek.  “And just so you know, I love kissing.”</p>
<p>Derek leans in, “Yeah?”</p>
<p>Stiles nods, a barely audible <em>“yeah” </em>wafting over Derek’s lips.</p>
<p>Derek tilts his head, leaning in further to rub the tip of his nose along Stiles’.  He swallows hard, breath mingling with Stiles’, and the second Stiles’ lips part, Derek pulls back to whisper, “Good to know.”</p>
<p>“Oh you,” Stiles reaches up to fist a hand in Derek’s hair, “I told you I love kissing and do that to me?  It’s not nice to tease.”</p>
<p>Derek bridges the gap between them to kiss Stiles and smiles at the tiny sound they make.  He thoroughly enjoys the press of Stiles’ body against him and pulls back only when he hears the steel door of the employee entrance opening up.</p>
<p>Stiles shifts to the opposite end of the piano bench.  “I should go get ready.”</p>
<p>Derek nods, “As much as I hate to admit it, yeah, you should.”</p>
<p>“You’ll be out in the audience tonight, right?”</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p>“That's what I like to hear.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, how did it go with Stiles earlier?”  Jackson looks over at Derek as he pops open another bottle of champagne for the birthday girl and the rest of her party sitting in the VIP section by the main stage.</p>
<p>Derek pours the next round of margaritas for table three and doesn’t even try to hold back his smile.  “Really well, actually.”</p>
<p>Jackson’s brows lift and he laughs softly, “See?  I told you!  Is that why Stiles was nearly vibrating with excitement when I was helping backstage earlier?”</p>
<p>“Helping?”</p>
<p>“Relax, I just helped with body paint and the appliques on Stiles’ back.  There was no inappropriate touching, I swear.”  Jackson looks up at the flicker of the houselights signifying the next act is almost starting.  “You should go take a break, enjoy the show.  I’ll take care of the bar.”</p>
<p>Derek sets the margaritas on the waitress’ tray and wipes his hands with a suspicious look aimed at his cousin.  “You’re being awfully nice right now.  It’s downright weird.”  The comment earns him a grin, and it doesn’t make Derek’s suspicions abate.</p>
<p>Jackson winks at him, “Trust me, you’ll want to be sitting down for this one.” </p>
<p>Whatever response Derek would have given to Jackson’s comment goes unspoken at the sound of Kali’s voice greeting the audience. </p>
<p>“Good evening!  How is everyone tonight?”</p>
<p>A chorus of cheers intermingles with the loud applause.</p>
<p>“What did you all think of Brett and Lorilee’s performance?”  Kali smiles, “pretty amazing, huh?”  She nods at the agreement of the gathering of patrons.  Kali looks out into the crowd and smirks when she notices Derek making his way to the owner’s table.  It’s only a brief distraction and then she’s speaking to the crowd again.  “I know most of you in the audience tonight were expecting to see Lydia and Jordan, but we have a special treat for you all.”  She grins at the <em>ooo’s</em> and <em>aah’s</em> of intrigue from the customers.  Kali laughs when someone calls out.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Just tell us already!”</em>
</p>
<p>Kali holds her hands up in a calming motion.  “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.”  Her eyes flick up to watch as the house lights dim further.  “Everyone, please welcome to the stage, in a very special Tuesday night performance…<em>Stiles!</em>”</p>
<p>Derek claps with everyone else in the audience.  He sits back in his chair, hands smoothing over his beard as the side curtains part to reveal the two poles on either side of the main stage.  The music starts, and the center spotlight brightens to reveal Stiles kneeling between the two poles, leaning back, reclining on their elbows.  Derek swallows hard when he realizes just how much clothing Stiles <em>isn’t</em> wearing as they sit up, arms extended out to their sides.  He’s frozen in place for the duration of the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2RTO0nsE5M">routine</a>, which is simultaneously the longest and shortest five minutes of Derek’s life.</p>
<p>The applause is immediate as the music fades at the conclusion of the number.</p>
<p>Stiles eases smoothly to the floor and takes a bow, a smile firmly in place.  Their smile widens at the whistles and cheers.  Stiles walks to the center of the stage and bows again, arms extended to wave at patrons on either side of the main stage.  They take a step back as the spotlights dim and the curtains slide back into place.</p>
<p>Derek is at a loss for what to do.  His body’s reaction to Stiles’ performance has made it impossible for him to stand up without embarrassing himself.  He looks up when a glass of ice water is placed on his table.  Hayden tells him that Jackson sent it over, and Derek turns to make a face at his cousin.  If the club wasn’t full of paying customers, Derek would have flipped him off, but he curtails the impulse, if only just barely. </p>
<p>Derek shuts his eyes and focuses on taking a series of slow deep breaths.  He pushes everything out of his mind and doesn’t even register Kali’s voice as she introduces the local band that booked the final slot of the evening.  Derek has managed to settle his baser instincts when he hears or rather feels, Stiles getting closer.  He opens his eyes as Stiles’ scent hits him.</p>
<p>“Hey, you,” Stiles tilts their head, lips quivering in an uncertain smile, “you okay?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>Stiles has pulled on a pair of drawstring linen pants and a plain white t-shirt, their exposed painted skin glittering in the overhead lights.  They slide into the seat next to Derek and drum their fingers on the tabletop. </p>
<p>Derek prods at Stiles’ fingers with one of his own, smiling when Stiles bats his hands away. </p>
<p>Stiles raises expectant eyebrows, “Well?”</p>
<p>“Well, what?”</p>
<p>“Don’t toy with me, Derek.  You know exactly what I’m asking.”  They look towards the dark stage, then back, “What did you think of my performance?”</p>
<p>“It was very nice.”</p>
<p>Stiles sits back with a shocked, <em>“nice?”</em></p>
<p>Derek laughs, “I love how offended you sound.”</p>
<p>Stiles pouts, “You’re mean.”</p>
<p>“I am not.”  Derek smiles encouragingly, “You’ve told me yourself that I’m a nice guy, remember?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well,” Stiles looks away, “maybe I’ve changed my mind.”  They watch Derek out of the corner of their eye and struggle to keep from smiling.</p>
<p>“Your performance is the reason I was still sitting here when you found me.”  Derek licks his lips and admits, “It was either that or risk embarrassing myself.” </p>
<p>Stiles’ eyes widen.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Derek nods, “so if ‘nice’ is the only adjective I could come up with, forgive me, but there was a reason.”  He watches Stiles as the words sink in and sits back with a sigh.  “I should get back to the bar before last call.”</p>
<p>“Of course.”  Stiles nods, “I should be heading home.  It’s been a long day and I have a ridiculous subway ride home.”</p>
<p>Derek only hesitates for a second before offering, “I could have Marcus drive you home.”</p>
<p>Stiles shakes their head, “I can’t ask you to do that.” </p>
<p>“You didn’t ask, I offered.” </p>
<p>“Still, I can’t.” </p>
<p>“You could stay until we’re closed, and <em>I</em> could drive you home.”</p>
<p>Stiles bites at their bottom lip, “You’d do that for me?”</p>
<p>“I would.”</p>
<p>“Sold.”  Stiles stretches with a tired groan, “I’ll just go take a nap on one of those comfortable couches in the day room, and you can wake me up when it’s time to go.”</p>
<p>“I’ll do that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The next few weeks are a blur of dates.  Derek assumes that this is what Stiles meant when they said they would date him ‘so hard’.  It’s a nice change after years of being alone.  Derek is quick to spend any and all free time with Stiles getting to know them.  His partner is intoxicating in every sense of the word, and Derek is enjoying every minute of it.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>